


Mistakes

by onebizarrekai



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different Mastermind (Dangan Ronpa), M/M, Mastermind Saihara Shuichi, Takes place during chapter 5, V3 spoilers, from kokichi's perspective, let's go gamers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onebizarrekai/pseuds/onebizarrekai
Summary: I’m driven to descend to his level on the ground. As angry as I feel, there’s thrill burning in my chest. I want to know what he knows, and I’m going to enjoy every moment of finally breaking him down. “I always knew you were special. A lie, Saihara?” I continue. I’m watching myself move. My thumb is touching his lips. It’s just an act. I’m tempted to prolong this accusation of mine. It feels like time has slowed down as is, and I want to savor this moment further. There’s no point in thinking about my feelings. They don’t matter. “You want to keep playing that game, don’t you?”Saihara doesn’t move a muscle. He’s so still, I’m certain he’s calculating something. Say it, Detective–you’re alone with a liar. You might even consider your secret safe. It’s only the two of us now, on opposite sides of this fantastical board.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write in first person, so this was an interesting experience! it was actually pretty fun, albeit tricky at times, especially writing from the perspective of a character like kokichi. writing kokichi in an unusual situation where he has to react to betrayal and cope with feelings he doesn't want was a WEIRD experience, but I hope you enjoy what came out of it!

Were it not for my prowess with deception, my hands would be quaking, I’m sure of it. Holding the remote for those oversized toys between my fingertips, I swear that the answers are hovering right above me. I might be afraid of them. I can’t say answers are always my favorite thing, and the closer I creep to them with every passing moment of this game, the more they sound like lies themselves.

I like lies. These lies, however, are the absolute worst–yet I’m starting to think the truth is somehow even worse. Of course, the truth is worse. I was wrong about something. I cannot trust anyone here. Everyone is useless. Everyone is dying. Is everyone dying, for real? Beats me.

I’ve been prodding a specific mind for suggestions and information ever since we met. I wanted to tell him what was on my mind recently, just a bit. I thought maybe he’d be more likely to crack open and start listening to me if I sprinkled him some honest truth, but things conveniently didn’t work out that way before it could happen. It ended up being a better idea to play the villain. Someone in here–one very familiar face–is responsible, and it would be smart to lure them out. I know this for certain at this point, and here is the part where the truth sucks.

Everyone else can’t stand me, but he’s not like that. I’ll say something any sensible person would find completely insufferable. He might stutter a little bit, scratch his face, or stare at me with big, intrigued eyes. He looks like he wants to laugh me off, even if he won’t do it.

It sounds fake.

I’m analyzing every expression in this room as I let my script write itself. I guess it sounds believable. It’s ridiculous; after all this time, none of these people have bothered to learn a thing about me to the point where they’ll easily believe that I’m some horrible world ender, for the better or worse. It’s stupid. There’s a bit of betrayal floating about, and a whole lot of malice, but an indescribable expression on my detective’s face. It’s present for about a second before he realizes I’m looking directly at him. It’s true, I’m trying to drag something out of him. I wonder if he can hear it–‘come and get me’.

Sorry, Shuichi Saihara–maybe I like you a little bit, but I’m still better than you, and I still see right through you. I wonder if you know just as well as I do how dense everyone else is. Did you think I’d find out, or did you think I was just like them? I wonder if you wanted me to uncover your secret, if this was all part of your little plan. How _romantic_.

Maybe as I press this button right now, this button that picks you up in the hand of this glorified toy, you know the real reason, even amidst everyone else’s idiotic preconception of a nefarious, pastime kidnapping. Oh no! I’m stealing the detective! Whatever shall you do? Yeah, yeah, come and get me. Bye.

The Exisals have a pre-programmed feature that causes them to beeline towards the hangar, most likely for repairs. What a shame–I was looking forward to a badly-programmed mini game with broken physics where I have to try and steer the machines back there with this tiny remote, and perhaps smack aside a grumpy little assassin along the way. This is nowhere near the case, of course. The other students seem speechless as I escape with Saihara; even Harumaki is frozen stiff. I don’t care. I could spend all this time pretending that I’m having fun controlling the Exisals, but this alone time with Saihara is a much more sparkling opportunity.

“Wow, your friends won’t even come after you?”

There’s a lot of noise to talk over, no thanks to the repeated slamming of walking machinery. I know he heard me, though. He doesn’t say a word and he refuses to look at me. Save it, Saihara. I want to clearly see the look on your face when I tell you I know what you’re hiding. I’m prepared to laugh out loud if this guy tries to play dumb and ask me ‘why I did this’.

It is kind of depressing, though. Poor little Saihara. Even if he’s fooling everyone else, his friends still didn’t come after him. He has an assassin and a supposedly-trained astronaut on his side, and neither of them tried to stop me. Maybe the shock of the seeing the planet wasted hit them across the head a bit too hard, but anyone piecing any of this together would know that none of this makes sense. Maybe my instincts to doubt pushed me in this direction, but anyone should be able to think twice about whatever they haphazardly see, hear or even think. If they can’t… they’re just stupid and gullible. Whoops, that puts us back at square one.

The door of the Exisal hanger shuts behind us. This place is an easy lockdown location–the perfect set-up for an uninterrupted interrogation, or whatever other purpose I may need to use it for. There’s a hydraulic press in here, and I feel a twinge in my wrists as I glance at it. I suppose it’s convenient that it’s there, just in case. There’s something turning in my stomach about it, and I briskly brush the feeling off.

I hop off the Exisal and press a button to release Saihara, ‘forgetting’ to lower him to the ground first. He falls on his ass with a thud. It’s kind of cute. Actually, I’m a little mad about it. It would have been fun if I could play the bad guy and he gets a nice little moment of glory as he plays the hero and tears it all apart, only thinking about me as it happens. But no, no, no. Fate is an Iruma like that.

Saihara decides to look up at me nervously. He opens his mouth, breaking this silence hanging over us. “What do you want with me?” he asks, his voice trembling. “We just learned the truth, and… do you think this is funny?”

That’s rich. _That’s really rich._

If he’s going to keep up this charade, I’ll just keep lying right back to him.

“It’s simple,” I tell him, striding closer. I feel a rush through the tips of my fingers as I reach out to touch his face. Saihara’s skin is cold and I feel a prickling sensation behind my shoulders that crawls down my back. He flinches at the contact one second too late, his pupils contracted. “I like you, and I want you for myself.”

“… That’s a lie,” Saihara says. Of course that’s his response. I was wondering what he would cook up to stay in character, and deflecting it would be the easiest possible option, but I’m willing to play a little harder than that if he wants to do the same so badly.

I’m driven to descend to his level on the ground. As angry as I feel, there’s thrill burning in my chest. I want to know what he knows, and I’m going to enjoy every moment of finally breaking him down. “I always knew you were _special_. A lie, Saihara?” I continue. I’m watching myself move. My thumb is touching his lips. It’s just an act. I’m tempted to prolong this accusation of mine. It feels like time has slowed down as is, and I want to savor this moment further. There’s no point in thinking about my feelings. They don’t matter. “You want to keep playing that game, don’t you?”

Saihara doesn’t move a muscle. He’s so still, I’m certain he’s calculating something. Say it, Detective–you’re alone with a liar. You might even consider your secret safe. It’s only the two of us now, on opposite sides of this fantastical board.

“Why not tell me what’s on your mind, Saihara?” I ask him. “I want to hear it out of your own mouth. Tell me why you’re here.” I find myself looking at his mouth, and I don’t bother stopping my eyes from lingering too long. It makes my act convincing, naturally. _My act._

I’m angry.

“Because you wanted to be alone with me,” Saihara responds, continuing to feed back neutral responses. Is he uncertain? Does he even recognize that I know this is all his doing? Is he playing it safe? Maybe he wants to be found out, just as much as I want to see him admit it.

“And, what do you suppose…” I begin again, raising my other hand to put it on the other side of his head. “… I could _possibly_ want that for?”

If someone truly believed that I was a horrible, twisted mastermind who enjoyed watching the last of humanity scramble to kill each other, and I was holding their face between my hands, they would be shaking. Even if they weren’t shaking, I would see it in their eyes. I see nothing in his eyes. They’re simply looking back and forth between my own, frantic movement attempting to shroud the lack of fear while those lips of his hang barely separated.

Digging my fingers into the hair above Saihara’s ears, I ask him. “Did you really think that you could fool me?”

Saihara’s gaze stills, his eyelids dropping slightly as he closes his mouth. A twitch on his face changes his expression. “… Why do you insist on making yourself the villain to the others?” he asks. For a moment, I think he’s still unsure, but his demeanor finally cracks. A tiny, innocent smile creeps up his face. “I sure hope it’s not because you’re trying to hide me.”

I can feel my blood starting to boil. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I’m about to remove my hands, everything I’ve worked for finally coming to fruition. I need some distance–I won’t be able to accept this if I keep that old image of him in my mind. Saihara clasps both of my hands before I can do this, gripping my knuckles harder than I appreciate.

“I wanted it to be you,” Saihara tells me, shifting forward. He releases one of my hands, but quickly snags me by the shirt near my shoulder and pulls me even closer to him until our noses are touching. “This is just how I imagined it.”

At least I was right about that. “What a twist,” I scoff, dedicated to keeping my composure in spite of the crawling in my skin. “You’re shit at flirting. What are you gonna do now, Saihara? Have a glorious little redemption arc inspired by the power of love?”

“What are _you_ going to do?” Saihara asks with a soft laugh. “You could just hide here with me until you’re ready for the next part. We can stay here and pretend…” He tilts his head and I can feel his cold lips brushing against mine with every word he utters. “I can be yours, just for fun.”

This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

“You want to be mine that badly?” I ask him, narrowing my eyes as I lean away. My voice almost gets caught in my throat–almost. “Then end this, and maybe I’ll spare your life.” Spare his life. That’s something I say a lot to people as a joke. I didn’t think I’d ever say it and have to second guess whether I meant it.

Saihara finally laughs out loud at me, drumming his fingers on my shoulder. “Not a chance. We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet, as good of a part as this is.” He leans close again, moving his hand to the center of my scarf, grabbing a handful and urging me into him. We’re kissing this time, for real. I’ve imagined this in passing. Of course, the circumstances are all wrong. The _truth_ is all wrong. All I can feel is nausea. “Don’t you want to see it, Ouma?”

I raise my free hand to my mouth for a moment, drawing in the lingering sensation. There are too many things in my head. I don’t like it one bit. I thought I would get at least some sense of gratification, cornering the mastermind at last and unveiling them, but there’s none to be found.

All I can see is the face of a person I thought that, maybe, I could trust a little, and it hurts me. I don’t want it to hurt. I’m so sick of things hurting.

Trust a little, sure, okay. That’s it. You fucking _idiot_. Shut up.

Reset. _Reset._

“Are you finally overwhelmed?” Saihara asks. Heat is rushing to my head, and I want to snap at him. This is his fault. Everything, all his fault. He’s at fault for my pain, and at fault for making things hurt that don’t even need to hurt. Saihara slips a hand behind my head and pulls me into his shoulder. “It’s okay… You can let go, Ouma.”

I’m so angry, actually–so angry. why does it have to be him? This wasn’t supposed to happen at all. Stop pretending to comfort me. _Stop_.

“After all… I’m still myself, even if you’ve learned something new. Isn’t that right?” Saihara whispers to me.

“Shut the fuck up.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. No, I’m done. I don’t care anymore. I shove him away from me, climbing to my feet to stare down at him. “I’m done fucking around.”

Saihara doesn’t even look surprised that I pushed him. A smile spreads wide on his face, and he throws his head back, howling with laughter. It sounds nothing short of demented. “That’s right! Isn’t this the moment we’ve been waiting for?” he says, standing up as well. He’s too tall compared to me. Do me a favor and sit back down again, Saihara. “It happened a lot faster than I expected, though. It’s almost sad.”

I can feel sweat beading at my temples. “… So,” I hiss, pressing my fingertips into my palms. “Are you going to tell me why you did all of this, Saihara? Every good villain has a speech to give.”

“Because I wanted this role,” Saihara replies. “Nothing more.” He laughs again. “Sorry. I can’t tell you anything else. It needs to wait for the end.”

The end. It really is like it’s all just a big show. “I know that we’re being broadcasted,” I say. “Is that really all there is to it? It really is just a game, isn’t it? Whether to make a political point… Or perhaps entertain a recurring audience.”

“… It’s so much more than that,” Saihara tells me, a zealous look in his eyes. “I’d love to show you, Ouma. You see, I gave you a role, too… but we ended up with something so much more meaningful. It’s _important_ to me.” He’s reaching into his pocket. “If you keep playing along, I’ll let you live to the end and show you everything you want to see.”

I flinch, instinctively reaching for my pockets. No, no, no. He stole the Exisal remote while he was hugging me, kissing me–whenever it was. I’m such an idiot–seriously? That was clearly his intention all along, and I blanked into a different universe all the while. What’s wrong with me? Why didn’t I notice? What do I do? He knows–he knows too much. “That’s playing dirty, Saihara.”

“I know you have a lot on your mind, Ouma…” Saihara continues, his finger on the button of the remote as he glances up at the machines already surrounding us. “I think you understand the situation well enough. I trust that you can make a decision without me needing to point any battle suits at you.”

“A decision, huh? I sure love those decisions with an implied single option,” I reply with a huff. “What do you mean by playing along?”

Saihara presses a button on the remote. The Exisals start to move away from us, specifically towards the door of the hangar. They line up neatly to block the shutter. “Stay here with me until I say it’s okay to leave,” he says simply. “That’s all. Everyone will think you’re holding me hostage… They’re bound to show up eventually.”

I’m leaping at the opportunity to strike the target he just put on his face. “Bold of you to assume they care about you, Saihara,” I sneer. He asked for it. “What was that, when we pranced off earlier? Not a single footstep behind us. After all, what’s the point of rescuing someone when they all think that there’s no purpose to their lives? You did a great job thinking this one through.”

Saihara smiles at me, slipping the Exisal remote into one of his pockets and buttoning it shut. “Don’t worry about that. Everything will go as planned. Well, _mostly_ , at least, since the part where you die is getting written out; unless you’d rather leave that part in. You haven’t given me your answer yet.”

I narrow my eyes. “And how am I supposed to know that you’re not going to kill me?” 

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that, especially since it’s tied to an offer.” He’s approaching me, and I have to stop myself from backing up in retaliation. I don’t want him this close, I don’t–but there’s no way I’m making myself look afraid of him. “Besides, I like you, and I’m not much of a despair fanatic. We both get more out of seeing you live.”

I have to look up at him to make eye contact. Do you ever just want to kick someone in the shin? That aside, an idea is buzzing in my mind, hovering there since all Saihara requested was that we stay here. “Not a despair fanatic?” I repeat. That sounds like it means something specific, but I can only make inferences. “Let me guess… You didn’t do all this just because you like seeing people kill each other and struggle to no avail.” He’s watching me curiously, listening to every word. “So why did you do it? Maybe… it’s that there’s still another part of the game. isn’t that right, Mr. Ultimate Detective?”

“That’s true,” Saihara replies, looking pleased. “You catch on so quickly.”

“So what…” I continue, “… would be the fun in constructing a game chock full of murder mysteries if you knew all the answers?”

He smiles wider. “That’s absolutely right, Ouma.”

My fingers twitch. “ _Who_ knows all the answers, Saihara?”

Another laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I lunge at him. I need to get that remote back. I was considering staying here with him for the sake of learning what I’m desperate to know and protecting my life, but why should I play by his twisted rules? He may have someone working with him on the outside, while we rot in here and keep playing just the way he wants–that’s not how I do things. I’m certain he wants to trade my life for someone else’s, possibly even everyone’s, and I refuse to go through that.

The two-person rule, from the beginning of time–maybe he wants it to be us.

I can’t know for sure, so I can’t agree to a single damn thing he says.

Saihara whirls away from me, amused. I keep reaching, he keeps avoiding, and now it’s like we’re doing a ridiculous little dance. I’m gritting my teeth in annoyance. This isn’t fair– _I’m_ supposed to be the annoying one. I think Saihara knows very well how infuriating this is. Think, think; can I distract him? Certainly not the same way that I just stupidly fell for a few minutes ago.

I feel my blood crawl and tighten my fists, taking in that expression on his face. He looks so fragile. I could try to use violence, but if I hit him, I could get hurt. Maybe he promises not to kill me, but he never promised not to put me out of commission. He still has the Exisals. That’s the whole reason I’m trying to get the remote back in the first place.

… I don’t think I want to hit him.

 _Reset_ , thank you very much.

“This thing is such a liability,” Saihara starts, putting a decent amount of distance between us before taking the remote out of his pocket, carelessly holding it with two fingers. “You want it back, don’t you?”

I’m already moving towards him. “If you want to play a game, you could at least give yourself some decent competition. What’s the point of playing if your victory is always ensured?” I ask him. Come on, just give it to me.

Saihara steps up onto the flat surface of the hydraulic press behind him. The upper part of it is only a short distance above his head. “Let me tell you a little secret, Ouma,” he starts, still waving the remote around.

Don’t stand on that, Saihara.

The detective throws the remote on the ground next to him. I’m about to bolt for it, but Saihara’s foot collides with it before I can reach him, effectively smashing it. I can only grit my teeth and internally curse at the remains. “You were supposed to get this back from me,” Saihara tells me, “but it leads to your death, and I don’t really want to take chances.”

Your fun and games are a skewed, twisted mess. You’re not like me. You don’t lie for fun. You only lie for gain and to protect your identity and your killing game. Although you’re willing to forsake some control for a participation award, everything is intricately systematic to you, and that’s the only way you want things to be. I bet you don’t even see me as an equal–just a toy to bend to your will as you please.

There’s something clawing away at me inside and it won’t leave no matter how hard I try to erase it.

Saihara laughs nervously. It’s fake, of course. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says, hopping off the surface of the press. “I just told you that you’ll learn everything you want to know, _and_ you’ll get to live. What more could you possibly want?”

“Fine then,” I reply, looking away. “I’m perfectly satisfied.”

“That’s such a lie.”

Your _face_ is a lie. “And?”

Saihara reaches out to me, brushing a lock of hair over my ear as I keep my expression blank. “If you don’t tell me the truth, I’m going to have to assume what you want,” he says. “Come on, Ouma. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I force a smile. “Tough luck,” I reply. “You know that’s not how I do things.”

He doesn’t get to know anything.

I’ll just have to figure him out before he can dig into me any more than he already has.

Glaring straight into his eyes, I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down to my level. “Do your worst. Waste my time.”

Saihara leans closer. “I beg to differ,” he whispers against my skin.

I’ve invited him to kiss me again.

I might be making another stupid, stupid mistake.


End file.
